The global circulation of food products, which for instance makes chili peppers from Tanzania available, convenient, and affordable in Rome, is often beyond what we can grasp. And, frankly, we may not be that interested in figuring it out either, as long as the food is available. The Tanzanian chili peppers are likely to be of good quality, checked for safety by various authorities, legally allowed to be sold in Italy, and probably quite tasty. In post-industrial societies we have become so used to having products from around the world at our fingertip (or easily accessible through our smartphone apps) that we rarely think about the cultural, social, and economic implications. All changes when such seamless flow is threatened or interrupted because of wars, natural disasters, or political tensions, such as the trade wars that are brewing between China and the US, Trump’s threats to impose tariffs on imports from Mexico, on the consequences of the EU embargo on Russian products. The idea that our avocados may suddenly get more expensive is an unpleasant one. But these events can cause urgent – and often devastating – problems to farmers around the world. What follows is a short excerpt from my new book Food, which presents these aspects of the food systems.
“Wherever we live, whatever portion of our budget we spend on food, however we experience our meals, it is quite likely that much of what we eat is harvested or slaughtered in distant places we are not familiar with. Our food is often prepared, processed, and packaged in plants the operations of which we may not understand, to be distributed through intricate networks spanning from the local to the global. The final products are eventually sold to us through different channels as ingredients and prepackaged items. We can also enjoy them prepared and cooked in restaurants, cafes, cafeterias, and other places of public consumption.
Such complexity is not limited to products such as bananas or pineapples, which obviously are harvested in tropical and equatorial locations. Our shrimp may be farmed and frozen in Vietnam. Our grapes may come from Chile. Our coffee may be grown and harvested in Nicaragua, roasted in Germany, and distributed in Canada. The feet of chickens raised and slaughtered in the United States often end up in China. The cookies I enjoy with my coffee when I am in Italy may be made with flour, butter, milk, and sugar imported from other countries. The wheat from which the flour was milled, possibly originating in Canada or the Ukraine, may be the result of breeding experiments conducted in anonymous laboratories in far-flung sites and patented by a transnational corporation with its headquarters in Paris, New York, or Shanghai. The factory that manufactured the cookies may be around the corner from my apartment in Rome or located across national borders, even if a local brand packages the product in familiar ways. Living in the countryside does not provide better assurance of fresh, local food; in fact, rural consumers very often have little access to products from their own area and are forced (and sometimes prefer) to buy from stores or even big-box supermarkets that purvey cheap and convenient goods from remote places. Anonymous commodities then can be transformed into familiar meals and comfort food through the preparation, care, and emotional labor of consumers.
The complexities of production and distribution are not necessarily negative, as they ensure easy and affordable access to food for large segments of the world’s population. As consumers, we tend to appreciate fruits and vegetables regardless of the seasons and their provenance. It’s hard to complain about having flour, sugar, salt, and all sort of groceries within arm’s reach at any given time. That was not always the case, and it still is not in many areas of the world. It’s a luxury that until recently only the richest were able to afford. It’s important to resist any temptation to embrace nostalgia for an idyllic, pre-industrial past that never existed while ignoring the hardships that most humans have experienced throughout history to produce, acquire, and prepare food. However, the mechanisms that make food convenient, cheap, and available year-round remain obscure. What do low production costs mean in terms of the wages and safety of those employed in the food industry? What do the people who produce our food eat?”